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Chapter 4: "The Dinner"

(Ahahaha. Damn guys this is getting a lot of love than I expected! I am really happy to be so loved by y'all! Thank you so much for leaving comments and likes)

I need to start supper. But first, maybe I could take care of myself. He's obviously gone for a bit, and what I want to cook shouldn't take too long. Reaching down my body, my fingers slide up under the short bit of skirt covering my thighs and push aside my panties-not like there is much to them anyway. I'm so wet that I can hear the liquid slosh.

Was it the blow job? The book? Everything? My body tingles as my fingers slip between my folds, and I freeze as I think back to the book. She got a spanking for doing exactly what I'm doing.

As turned on as I am, getting through dinner and then climbing into bed are probably better for me. I can take my time later and get myself off without worry. If he walks in on me fingering myself, would he expect me to let him punish me? That raises the question: would I like it?

My fingers are glistening when I pull them out of my panties.

I wash my hands three times before I start cooking, but I still imagine I can smell myself on them. I know it's just the fact that my panties are so wet that I can smell my arousal whenever I move, but it's hard to not think about fingering myself and having a bit of relief. What has this man done to me?

Despite the lack of food in his kitchen before my grocery trip, he has a well-stocked collection of pans. It's practically a professional restaurant's supply. I could cook all week for the two of us without dirtying everything.

I've always loved cooking, but my home has a tiny kitchen and what little money I have for food budgeting does not include the best cuts of meat or name brand items.

Our meal plan for the next two days cost more than what I usually spend on myself in two weeks. This is definitely an unconventional vacation, but who am I to turn down the opportunity to eat healthy, delicious meals, even if I'm the one who's cooking?

"Something smells good."

Jimin pops into the kitchen and looks into the pan.

"I thought I said steak?"

"You did, sir."

I chance a quick glance as I call him that. The way his nostrils flare tells me I've got a reaction from him; I like knowing that.

"You didn't say how you wanted it served, so I opted to make my mother's Swiss steak. Sir."

I add the honorific a little late but squeak it out before he can respond.

"I normally put it on the grill."

"Well, you told me to cook dinner, and I've made Swiss steak. It's good. I promise. Do you want to taste the sauce?"

I offer him the spoon, cupping my hand beneath it to avoid spilling tomato sauce onto the white tile flooring.

I didn't know a man licking a spoon could be so erotic, but it is.

The way his tongue drags across it... I clench my legs together to stop my pussy from begging to be touched, to have his mouth on me down there. Jimin takes his time tasting, winking at me as he closes his lips over the spoon's bowl and tugging.

"If all your dishes are this good, maybe I'll keep you here longer than seven days."

I clear my throat and look around the kitchen.

"Could you please show me where you keep the plates, silverware, and glasses for dinner?"

"I think they're in the dining room. I'll go check."